


Ryan Ross, Manny

by loveyouallwrong (drunktuesdays)



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Ficlet, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-14
Updated: 2009-11-14
Packaged: 2017-10-02 17:41:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drunktuesdays/pseuds/loveyouallwrong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was a birthday gift for fledmusic on LJ.  It's not!fic, pretty much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ryan Ross, Manny

The day their ad for a nanny ran in the newspaper, Pete and Ashlee's phone rang off the hook. Pete looked slightly overwhelmed as he copied another name and number down onto paper.

"Great, Ethel. We'll get back to you," he said, making helpless eyes at Ashlee, who shrugged. "Thanks." He hung up the phone, and looked bewildered at the page of names.

"Maybe we should have looked for a nanny service instead of doing an ad," Ashlee said.

"I kind of assumed nannies would be coming from the sky with umbrellas," Pete admitted. He reached for the phone book and started flipping to the Ns, when there was a smart rap on the door. Bronx began to cry from the other room. They both groaned.

"You get the door, I'll get the baby," said Ashlee, pushing her chair back.

Pete opened the door to find a kid. Dressed in tweed, carrying a cane, and a briefcase. "_Uh_," Pete said.

"Hello," the kid said, in a unsettling monotone. "I am Ryan Ross."

Pete scratched his head. "Are you selling girl scout cookies?"

Ryan Ross made a face, carefully balanced the cane on the rail, extracted the briefcase and took out a folded piece of newspaper. "Is this your ad?" he demanded.

"Yeah," Pete started. "But you can't be--"

"I have excellent references," Ryan Ross said. And then kinda smiled.

*

Pete totally hired him. Ashlee put up a fight for like five minutes, and then Ryan Ross asked her about the Russian ballet poster she had framed in the hallway, and she was instantly charmed. "The twenties were such a great year for ballet," Ryan Ross said dreamily.

"How _old_ are you?" Pete said, completely fascinated.

Bronx started to cry in Ashlee's arms before anyone could say anything else. "May I?" Ryan Ross asked, holding his extremely long arms out to the baby. Ashlee handed Bronx over very carefully, easing the baby in the curve of Ryan Ross's elbow.

Bronx took one look up at Ryan Ross, and ceased crying to stare. Ryan Ross stared back. They looked at each other, unblinking for a few minutes before Bronx finally quirked his mouth in what could have been a smile. Maybe. Ryan Ross mirrored it.

"This is _great_." Pete said.

 

*

"Pete!" Ryan Ross called, weeks later. "Your child is smelly!"

"Your manny is terrible," Patrick said. He and Pete were watching Prince DVDs on Pete's big screen in the den. Pete was taking artistic pictures of Patrick watching the DVDS. Patrick kept trying to punch him.

"Shut up," Pete said. "I love him."

"He doesn't even change diapers," Patrick said. "I'm pretty sure that's like ninety percent of what a nanny is supposed to do with babies."

It was true. Ryan Ross changed no diapers. He told Pete that bodily excretions were a natural process of all human lives, and it would totally be a bonding experience to enhance Pete's love for his son. And then he went in his room, and came out an hour later with red eyes and singing Bob Marley.

Pete adored him.

*

Years went by, and Ryan Ross continued to care for little Bronx. They went to the park, and came back with a pet worm Bronx insisted on naming Peter. "My dad would be so proud the family name is continuing after all," Pete said. Then he, Ashlee, and Bronx went into the backyard and gathered leaves for Little Peter's jar. They brought them back, and Ryan said how great it was that they were all learning about nature.

Bronx nodded his four year old head. "We have to say thank you to Mother Nature for her many gifts, right Ryan?"

Ryan Ross beamed. "Most right, Bronx. Mother Nature is the ultimate MILF."

"What's a MILF?" Bronx asked Pete.

Pete said, "Let's make tacos for dinner."

*

One night, as the foursome came home from dinner with Travis, there was a strange light in the sky. Ashlee noticed it first, and pointed up so that everyone could stop in the driveway and stare too.

"Must be a plane or something," Pete said.

"It's Ronon," Ryan Ross said.

"What?"

"Ronon," he repeated. "It's time to go." He gathered his cane, and his briefcase and straightened his tweed suit. Then he went to kneel down in front of Bronx, who had started to cry.

"Don't go, Ryan Ross," Bronx said. "Please?"

Ryan Ross clucked. "Don't worry, Bronx. I'll be back some day. In the meantime, if you ever need me, just make a wish on a five fingered leaf. Now, you be a big boy, and don't cry."

"Okay," Pete sniffled. Ryan patted them both on the head with his extremely long alien fingers, adjusted his lapel, and set off down the driveway, down the street, and out of sight.

Pete picked up his son, and then put his arm around his wife. "Think we'll ever see him again?" Ashlee asked, shivering in the cool breeze.

"Maybe," Pete said. And then they went inside, closing the door firmly as the bright light streaked against the sky above them and disappeared.


End file.
